


Assassin's Redemption

by Flyingbirdietimmy



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Assassin - Freeform, Assassin!Damian, Duplicity, League of Assassins - Freeform, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 13:47:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15390063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flyingbirdietimmy/pseuds/Flyingbirdietimmy
Summary: Life at the League is no walk in the park for Damian Al Ghul. Following the orders of his grandfather keeps him alive which puts him in a difficult position when he is asked to kill the man he fantasizes about meeting.





	Assassin's Redemption

The first thing I noticed upon setting foot inside the dark, dingy cell was the heavy scent of something dry with a touch of metallic. Splashes of a crusty dark colour from my previous visits was now covered by a lighter, and sticky-wet substance. Though it was difficult to see in the lightning I had seen the exact colours enough to know that the darker ones were a deep red that straddled the threshold of brown and the fresher samples were bright like crimson. The worst of it caked a figure on the ground, limp, lifeless, and settled into an uncomfortable jumble of limbs. The body scarcely resembled what it was anymore. It strongly resembled ground beef. The iron cuffs that were attached to where wrists and ankles had once been clearly defined were difficult to make out. Their exact locations could only be made out because of the heavy chains that snaked towards their links built into the stone floor.

I felt a stillness settle upon the scene. Everything seemed like it was frozen in time and I was an interloper. My breathing stilled until I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Something scuttled across the cell before it managed to escape into a hole and that was enough to break the eerie enchantment of this place. 

A lump formed in my throat and it felt as though my bird had transformed into a panicked bird trying to escape the cavity of my chest upon the realization of what this meant. This man was my responsibility! He wasn't supposed to be dead! Had had this even happened!?

I knelt beside the man and turned over his arm. A jagged stone fell and I let the arm fall back to the ground as the answer revealed itself through the gashes all over this man’s body. They were deep, brutal, and wild as the desperate last attempts of a man to free himself. No man who could do this to himself could be completely sane at this point. I knew it had to hurt and he would have tried slowly. He probably had some sort of seizure would let to his awkward position. Suicides were not an uncommon fate to befall the captives belonging to my grandfather’s dungeons. Typically it didn't actually matter if a prisoner offed themselves because it meant another nuisance had bit the dust. There were a few exceptions like when they had some valuable piece of information. Even in such instances there are usually other ways to procure information. Knowing all that did nothing to reassure me. My prisoner hadn't been the type bearing information but he was supposed to live for a least a week. 

I had known suicide was a possibility and had even searched the cell to insure he didn't have that kind of escape available. The miserable atmosphere was overwhelming the moment anyone even set foot in this vile place and for good reason. I didn't think anyone was better at torture than my grandfather. No one who entered as a prisoner ever left here alive.

I rose to my feet again, my panic giving way to anger. A stream of Arabic words flowed out seemly of their own accord. I turned quickly and slammed the cell door shut with a heavy clang. I stomped back to the spiral staircase that led into this hell, focusing on the way each footfall resonated through this place.

I was so absorbed in my own noise that I was caught off guard when I heard a guttural snarl and the rattling of chains. My eyes whipped to the offending sound and I instinctively jumped back as a pale skinned man reached for me, the chain around his neck that he pulled against causing a violent coughing fit. His fingernails were way too long and his ribs were prominent through the sallow skin clinging to his naked figure. The flickering light from the torchlight hanging on a bracket caused a glint in the creature’s dark eyes. He panted for a moment before he went ballistic again, swiping at me wildly. I shook my head and hurriedly pressed on. 

Such a fate was met frequently here. Often times the torture was intolerable and people snapped. If the prisoner was one of the few who held information then they had a way out. A merciful was was granted in exchange for their information. Anyone else was tortured until death where they either snapped or didn't. Some of the training I'd had to endure was meant to prepare me for such a fate as that that these people faced. My endurance for pain was high so I would never lose my mind the way that man had… well- that was the idea anyways. It also made me more effective in a fight. Pain is a powerful distraction but if you can fight through it your odds of success increase. The logic of it makes sense to me which is why I trust my grandfather’s tactics and follow his orders without question or complaint.

Despite that, I felt dread. Failure wasn't an option and the consequences were harsh. It was why I rarely failed anymore. I couldn't hide this from him. He likely already knew anyways. I had noticed one of my grandfather’s elite guards leaving just as I was entering. 

The staircase spanned about three stories. Even so, the hike up them all felt much too short. At the top of the staircase there was a long tunnel that was practically a maze. It led to different parts of the temple. Every entrance to the maze was concealed. 

The temple was part of a hidden city known as Nanda Parbat nestled high in the Himalayas. This place was practically a myth and held a reputation for healing and enlightenment. It also served as a front to my grandfather’s biggest base.

Even distraught and undergoing a furious tsunami of emotions it was impossible to not notice the lush extravagance f the interior. It was little wonder that this place was so shrouded in myth for the sandstone coloured walls were ornately carved with geometric shapes and patterns with a thread-thin gold filling. Gold was a common theme throughout the temple. Large domed ceilings were plated in it and decorated with precious jewels that formed wonderous patterns to compliment the arabesque patterns below.

Of those who did come to the city, about half were thieves looking to fatten their coffers. From my knowledge not a single thief had yet to successfully escape with anything of value. Any caught were immediately thrown into the dungeons where they could ruminate on their foolish choices until they perished. There was but one thief who had managed to escape this fate. Like with most secondhand stories the details of his endeavour were warped with time and teller so I cannot with confidence recall what really happened. What I do know is that the feat was so impressive that my grandfather ended up recruiting him. He eventually became one of the elite assassins that guards my grandfather and one of my personal trainers whom I am to address as ‘Master Leif’. He is one of few who actually outrank me. 

My thoughts were drawn back to the situation as I spotted a guard meandering towards me. He wore black and a mask that made it impossible to determine his identity, not that it mattered anyways. I didn’t concern myself with learning the names of all the whelps in my grandfather’s employ. When I was a little closer to him I lifted my hand to indicate I wanted him to stop. He sprang to attention immediately and smoothly executed a bow. I was not one to waste time on formalities especially to those well below my rank so I was already speaking as he was coming back up from his bow. “I need to know where my grandfather is. Are you able to assist me?”

“Yes, milord. I saw him on the balcony overlooking the gardens mere moments ago. I think you still have ample time to catch him.” I could hear the smile in his reply. This one liked to serve which either meant strong loyalty or he was dangerous. The worst traitors often looked like the best allies which was why I never trusted anyone aside my mother or grandfather. They were blood and while treason was common in powerful families I had no reason to doubt them yet.

I lowered my hand and flicked it as if swatting a fly. “Very well. Be gone.”

I didn’t look to see if he had followed my order. I knew he had. I broke into a run, almost taking out a poor servant carrying a tray of goodies as I did so. She shrieked and struggled to keep the contents from splatting all over the floor. I ignored her and skidded to a stop at the threshold to the hall where the balcony lay. I took a moment to catch my breath so I could at least look collected even though I was as close to a nervous wreck as could be. I strode into the entryway and awaited acknowledgement. 

The ancient man in his green tunic and salt and pepper hair had his head turned towards a woman I didn’t recognize. She was probably in her mid-thirties. She held her head high and shoulders back in such a way that suggested she wasn’t cowed by my grandfather’s rank. Yet, she was agitated. Her hands flew through the air in such animated motion that I had almost forgot my purpose for being here as her desperation drew me in.

When my grandfather spotted me he lifted his hand as I had done to the guard earlier and the woman’s mouth snapped shut. However, her eyes flashed with anger. She brushed past me without another word.

I took that as my cue to approach. I dropped down to one knee and my eyes remained downcast. This had taken quite awhile to learn. Naturally my eyes were drawn up to his face but in this world of rank and power that was seen as a challenge. I wasn’t ready to challenge him yet.

A sweet fragrance had my eyes tracking from the pretty tiles to the glimpse of the gardens below. My gut twisted with disgust at the sight. It was all wrong. No flora should be growing so high in the mountains and here stood an enchanted, exotic garden. The first time my grandfather had introduced me to it I was either two or four. He took a man down a path and had him smell a gorgeous violet flower while he told me to hide in the bushes nearby. Not even a minute after, the man fell and don’t get up. He had told me it was a powerful poison. I hadn’t been able to set foot in that garden by myself again.

I was drawn from the memory when my grandfather spoke. “You have something to tell me?”

His careful wording assured me of what I already knew: he was aware I had failed. He wanted to hear me say it though. “I-“ the pause came naturally as some part of me fought to keep from saying it. I hated admitting I had failed. “My task could not be completed to the standard you have expected of me.”

“I was informed of this already.” He said coolly. I couldn’t even begin to guess what he was really feeling but subconsciously I imposed disappoint on his words and it made me wince. “Under normal circumstances I would have you flogged.. five lashes for everyday your objective should have lived. Instead.. because the nature of your next mission is more difficult than usual I will refrain from giving you consequences.”

I could hardly believe my ears. I didn’t have to be whipped this time? What possibly could my mission be that he would do such a thing?

He reached into his tunic and tossed something on the floor in front of me. It slid with a scrape until it was almost touching my hand. I picked up the black, metal weapon and recognized the bat shape. I rose to my feet, brow furrowing. “A batarang?”

“I want you to kill him.” He stated. Those words turned my blood to ice. He knew it had been my dream to meet my father. It had been the one thing I could consider mine. My life belonged to the League of Assassins and my grandfather. My dream was just that, a dream that could feed me hope on the days I really questioned things. I stared at the little device and tried to keep the trembling from my hand as he continued. “I’ve sent too many men after him. This task can only be entrusted to you.”

I wanted to know why but I knew than to ask. I couldn’t question my grandfather. “I am certain you have excellent reason to leave this task to me…”

“Yes.. you have something my other assassins don’t. You share his blood which means you can infiltrate his numbers and kill him when he least expects it.” 

The ground felt like it had dropped out from underneath me and I almost stumbled. My unfiltered words escaped. “You want /me/ to go undercover?!”

He nodded. “It will take some time to gain his trust. He is very paranoid but in time you should be able to seize an opportunity to strike.”

I nodded numbly and waited for him to excuse me. My mind was spinning! My dream was going to come true after all.. and then I’d have to kill him…  
~~  
The next few months were some of the most difficult of my life. It required research until information was pouring out of my ears and endless hours of roleplay until I was able to convincingly portray an idealized version of myself. Answers and beliefs I’d always held had to be detangled from the instinctive roots of my mind do I wouldn’t accidentally say the wrong things.

The plan itself was relatively simple. My mother would drop me off under the notion that I was in danger for refusing to follow my grandfather’s path any longer. I would then solidify my place as son, earn his trust enough for him to lower his guard, and strike when the time came. I had thought it ridiculous at first because anyone who knew me would know I couldn’t betray my grandfather. My mother informed that he didn’t even know I existed and therefore he wouldn’t know my loyalties, personality, or anything! I knew she was right. 

At last came the day when I was ready. I felt an odd lightness in my chest like the first time on that day where I had been given my first assignment. That day too I had been flown away from my home and then I killed my first target. The rest of the day I rode an adrenaline high and then nightmares and guilt had given me my first sleepless night. Since then I’d killed enough people that death no longer bothered me.

But this feeling was different. I was going to meet my father! Yes.. I had to kill him but even that couldn’t detract from the excitement of having my dream fulfilled right now! I couldn’t kill him on day one anyways. He wouldn’t trust me especially given the other side of my heritage. I still longed for different circumstances but this would have to do. 

After the helicopter ride I had to switch to an aircraft meant for longer distances. My discipline kept me from fidgeting or squirming in my seat like some child but I still felt like I was going to explode after so many hours in my seat. When the jet landed I moved quicker than my body could adjust and I stumbled into the wall of the vessel much to my chagrin and my mother’s amusement. I couldn’t help bouncing when my feet hit the ground and the slight curve of my mother’s lips told me she appreciated my excitement. “Ready?”

“Yes!!” I responded, then groaned when I saw the vehicle that was to transport us via ground.   
~~  
From what I could tell, the house my father resides in wasn’t quite as extravagant as the temple I lived in. It was by no means small or destitute but it wasn’t quite the grandeur I had anticipated.

I was instructed to wait out here while my mother went to speak with my father. Rather than seeking an audience the way a normal person might, she climbed in through an open window. I watched her disappear into the interior of the manor and then plopped down on a bench beside a fish pond. I picked up some pebbles beside my feet and skipped them across the surface. When the pebbles began to sink the fish would creep closer under the impression I was giving them food. I think the fat orange one might have even ate one. 

I found this so amusing that I was startled when I suddenly heard: “And who might you be?”

My head whipped around so fast I was at risk of breaking my neck. The first thing I noticed were the speaker’s dazzling blue ocean eyes. They were different than those I was accustomed to.. not because of colour but rather.. the kindness I could see within them. This man wasn’t a hardened killer like the assassin I’d grown up with. He was young.. probably in his early twenties. His face looked familiar and I knew that somehow he was important to my mission but I’d forgotten his name. I’d actually forgotten pretty much everything in that moment by I quickly collected myself and slid into my adopted persona.

“I’m sorry! I mean no harm! My name is Damian and I came here seeking asylum with my father!” I remembered that I should probably look scared so I let my brows raise and poked out my lower lip, letting it tremble. 

I studied his face for any sign of disbelief but this man seemed quite ready to believe anything I had to say.. especially now that I’d made myself so vulnerable looking. Honestly I was disgusted with myself but this was part of my job and the role I was to play.

“Are you both in danger?” He asked softly. I’d never heard such a kind voice. For the first time in a long time I felt a little guilty. Deception like this went beyond what I was comfortable with. Assassins do use deception and I was no different but this was something else entirely.

“I’m not sure you understand.” I made my own voice soft and weak. I lowered my head. “I haven’t met him yet. I’m.. scared he’s going to hate me.”

I risked a look up, secretly loving the conflicted confusion contorting his features. “What?”

“Bruce Wayne is my father.”

I was surprised when he hunched over, clutching his sides. For a moment I thought he’d been injured but then the laugher burst forth and I rolled my eyes while he wasn’t looking. “Bruce Wayne had a kid?! As if! I’ve heard this one a million times. You aren’t the first to claim that, kid!”

I bristled by luckily the man wasn’t watching me. I forced myself to relax and just stared at him blankly until he stopped. The man paused and took a closer look at me. “You- aren’t joking..”

I quickly shook my head and dropped it into my hands, shaking with silent laughter though it had the appearance of sobs. “He’s going to cast me out! I’m going to be murdered!” I wailed.

The man placed a hand on my shoulder which caused me to go tense. “Hey.. that’s not going to happen. Whatever comes next.. Bruce will protect you.”

I looked up at him, wiping at my eyes like I had tears in them. “W-what do I call you?”

“Dick.” He smiled reassuringly. “Just a heads up though.. don’t expect a giant hug from him or anything. He’s not really the affectionate type unless you’re dedicated to it like I am!”

I laughed weakly and then tested the name. “Dick..” I began to recall what I’d learned about him. He lived in Bludhaven and visited here only on occasion. He had been Batman’s sidekick for years. He likely wouldn’t be a threat to my mission. “Nice to meet you..”

Our heads both turned when the door flew open and my parents started marching out. I rose to my feet to meet them and watched their progress across the lawn while I heard a shark gasp beside me. I was guessing Dick knew who my mother was. 

They stopped in front of me and I frowned when I looked up at my father for the first time. I felt a sensation of anticlimax and disappointment. “I imagined you taller…”

My mother shot daggers at me with her eyes and I plastered on a pleasant smile. I held my hand out to him. “Hello father, my name is Damian Al Ghul..”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I'll continue this or not.


End file.
